


prom night

by poetictragedy



Series: thirty prompts [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Human, Biting, Desk Sex, F/M, Fingerfucking, Genderswap, Girl!Stiles, Hair Pulling, Prom, nice!Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 07:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetictragedy/pseuds/poetictragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night of their senior prom and Stiles goes with the one person she never thought would ask her: Jackson.</p><hr/><p>“So,” Allison says as she comes in and leans against the bathroom door, smiling at Stiles as she pulls on her too-purple, too-tight, strapless dress. “How’d he ask you again?”</p><p>Grumbling, Stiles looks up at Allison and pulls the dress up, adjusting it a little so it fits correctly on her chest. “In the <em>least</em> romantic way ever,” she answers and licks her lips, grinning when Allison sighs. “Sorry.”</p><p>“And that was…”</p><p>“He went, ‘yo, Stilinski, you going to prom with anyone?’ and when I said no, he was like, ‘yeah, well, now you are.’ Stupid, right?” Stiles scoffs and adjusts her dress one more time before looking in the mirror. The girl staring back at her is, in every way, beautiful and she bites her lip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	prom night

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: formal.
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes you find and, man, this is my first time writing anything het in a long, long time so please ignore me if I was ignorant and things sound weird. /hides in my corner/

Being a girl is hard sometimes, especially when you have to dress up and actually look pretty for someone else. Stiles learns this all too quickly when she agrees to let Allison get her ready for prom. She also learns that it hurts like a bitch and bikini waxes? Yeah, no, she never wants to get one of those _ever again_.

The finished product, though, is a girl that Stiles wouldn’t even recognize even if she tried her hardest. Her hair is, for once, curlier than before and spilling over her bare shoulders. There’s colour on her cheeks that wasn’t there four hours ago and her eyes are lined in black, making the honey colour pop even more. She’s even got a sparkly purple eye shadow on and her lips are a shiny pink.

“So,” Allison says as she comes in and leans against the bathroom door, smiling at Stiles as she pulls on her too-purple, too-tight, strapless dress. “How’d he ask you again?”

Grumbling, Stiles looks up at Allison and pulls the dress up, adjusting it a little so it fits correctly on her chest. “In the _least_  romantic way ever,” she answers and licks her lips, grinning when Allison sighs. “Sorry.”

“And that was…”

“He went, ‘yo, Stilinski, you going to prom with anyone?’ and when I said no, he was like, ‘yeah, well, now you are.’ Stupid, right?” Stiles scoffs and adjusts her dress one more time before looking in the mirror. The girl staring back at her is, in every way, beautiful and she bites her lip.

Allison laughs and moves into the bathroom, playing with one of Stiles’ curls, shaking her head. “At least he  _asked_ ,” she mumbles and laughs again, leaning her chin on Stiles’ shoulder. “Scott stammered so much I was afraid he was going to throw up on me.”

“So what’d you do then?” Stiles asks, though she knows the answer; Scott told her the whole embarrassing story and she had to play the comforting best friend role for two days.

“I asked if he wanted to go to prom with me and he just nodded his head quickly.” Allison sighs and smiles at Stiles in the mirror. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” she comments and touches Stiles’ stomach lightly.

The feeling of Allison’s hand on her makes Stiles’ stomach lurch and she smiles nervously, batting her friend’s hand away. “Now, Allison, you know I offered to give you the lesbian experience before but that became void when you started boning my best friend,” she mumbles and laughs, patting Allison’s hand gently. 

Silence falls over them and soon Allison is pulling Stiles out of the bathroom, leading her over to her closet. The doors open and Stiles whistles at all of Allison’s clothes that she has literally drooled over a thousand and one times.

“What colour shoes do you think will look best with your dress?”

“Huh?” Stiles asks, blinking rapidly as she turns to look at Allison, her cheeks heating up. “Uh… purple?”

Allison shakes her head and frowns, going to grab a pair of black heels before holding them out to Stiles. “What about these?”

“I’m going to break my fucking neck in those! What are they?”

“Platform slingbacks,” Allison answers, in a  _‘you should have known that’_  kind of tone. “Try them on.”

Huffing, Stiles grabs the shoes and goes to sit on Allison’s bed, the skirt of her dress coming up a couple of inches. She blushes and tries to ignore the way she feels sitting down, opting instead to distract herself with the seriously tall heels in her hands. Stiles glares at Allison and pulls a foot up, slipping the shoe on before doing the same with the other.

After a moment, Stiles pushes herself up and stands, biting her lip. “Oh my god,” she breathes and laughs, putting a hand on her stomach. “I’m tall!”

“That’s the magic of heels.”

“I might be able to actually  _look_  into Jackson’s eyes instead of at his chin,” Stiles says, still in awe at how tall she is in the heels. She takes a step forward, teeters a little, but regains her balances. “I’m going to break my neck.”

A laugh bubbles up from Allison’s throat and she shakes her head. “You aren’t going to break  _anything_ ,” she assures Stiles and grabs a pair of red pumps before slipping them on. 

“Right. Scott’s face is going to be in your boobs if you wear heels _that tall_ , you know.” The look on Allison’s face when Stiles says that tells her that she doesn’t want to continue the conversation unless she wants to hear about her friends’ perverted, dirty times together. And as much as she loves them both, Stiles does not want t hear about their sex lives. “I’m going to go downstairs and wait for Jackson,” she says and grabs her jacket from the bed, draping it over her arm.

“Be careful. My dad isn’t here to catch you if you fall down the stairs this time,” Allison warns and Stiles nods her head, waving a hand over her shoulder.

Walking into the hall is easy and Stiles thinks she’s gotten the hang of strutting around in the heels. Until she gets to the top of the stairs, that is, and she looks down, groaning. She takes a deep breath and holds onto the banister, taking the stairs slowly and one at a time. There are a few instances where she’s afraid she’s going to fall but doesn’t, much to her pleasure.

Stiles moves to sit on the arm of the couch and looks down at her legs, biting her lower lip, smudging the lip gloss Allison so lovingly applied to her mouth. She releases her lip and sighs, moving a hand up to twirl a curl around her finger, willing the butterflies and the feeling of nausea to go away. 

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” she says to herself and blows out a breath, tapping her heel against the floor. It makes a cool noise and Stiles smiles, doing it again, the action and noise distracting her. 

When the doorbell rings, Stiles jumps and squeaks, standing a little too quickly and causing herself to fall back on the armrest. She laughs and stands again, composing herself before walking to the door, the heels clacking as she does, and she stops, huffing. 

Stiles gives herself a moment to calm down before opening the door, her eyes going wide when she sees Jackson standing on the porch. He’s wearing a black suit and a purple tie, his short hair gelled into spikes. It’s a douchey kind of look but it’s the same look that Stiles has loved for years.

“You look good,” she says and smiles, motioning for him to come in, blushing when she notices that Jackson is staring at her. At first, Stiles thinks that her boobs are popping out of her dress and she looks down to check before realizing that he’s looking  _at her_. 

Licking his lips, Jackson comes in and shuts the door. “Thanks,” he replies and laughs, the sound making Stiles’ heart jump in her chest. “And you look… gorgeous.”

“ _Me_? Gorgeous? Ha.” Stiles waves a hand dismissively and bites the edge of her lip, letting her eyes roam along Jackson’s body before settling on his face again. “I think you’re talking about yourself.”

“Whatever.” The word is spoken without malice and Jackson smiles as he waves a little plastic container around. “I got this for you. Allison told me what colour your dress was and I thought I’d match,” he says, pointing to his tie before opening the box.

Inside the box is a beautiful, lavender flower and Stiles’ stomach twists as she lifts a shaky hand. Jackson takes the corsage out and slips it onto her wrist, his fingers brushing along her skin and lingering for a moment. 

Stiles swallows and looks at the flower, then to Jackson, smiling. “Thanks,” she whispers and clears her throat, putting a finger up before going to the coffee table. She grabs the purse she borrowed from Allison and shrugs into her jacket (also borrowed from Allison) before joining Jackson at the door. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Jackson holds his hand out to Stiles and she stares at it like she’s never had anyone offer her their hand before. It takes her an embarrassingly long time before she slips her hand into Jackson’s and swallows, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat.

The walk to the Porsche is easy but that’s mostly because Jackson is there to hold onto Stiles and he puts a steadying hand on the small of her back, leading her to the passenger side. Where he opens the door for her and Stiles stares at him, wondering where the douche Jackson went but not complaining about nice version she’s being blessed with.

Once they’re in the car, Stiles settles against the seat and moves her foot around, the heels already starting to feel uncomfortable. “Damn shoes,” she sighs and leans over, running her fingertip under the strap along the back.

“They look good on you, though,” Jackson murmurs and Stiles is almost certain that she’d turn pink if not for the three layers of crud Allison caked onto her face to make her look “porcelain”, as she put it.

“Thanks.” Stiles grins and leans back against the seat again, humming to a song that’s playing on the radio as she thinks about how crazy it is that she, Stiles Stilinski, is going to prom with Jackson freaking Whittemore. The universe has definitely smiled upon her and she’ll have to thank them later — assuming everything goes well, of course.

It doesn’t take them long to get to the school and when Jackson parks, Stiles is suddenly hit with a wave of nausea and a feeling of paranoia. She doesn’t want to think that Jackson is doing this for a joke or because he lost a bet but now that it’s happening, Stiles can’t help but wonder if the lacrosse team put him up to it.

Stiles is pulled from her thoughts, though, when she feels a hand on her own and she blinks, turning to look at Jackson. She swallows and licks her lips, wiping the lip gloss off of them completely. A sigh escapes and Stiles laughs, opening her purse before grabbing the tube of lip gloss Allison had stuffed in there earlier. (“For emergencies,” she said and giggled, which only made Stiles blush a thousand times harder.)

“Really, Stilinski?” Jackson teases and Stiles turns to glare at him, shaking her head as she runs the wand across her lips. She rubs them together the way Allison taught her and looks at herself in the rear view mirror. “Are you ready now?”

“Wait, there’s one more thing.” Huffing, Stiles twists around in her seat and glares at Jackson, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Are you going to call me ‘Stilinski’ all night or could you, y’know, call me by my name?”

Jackson blinks and pulls his eyebrows together, staring at Stiles. “I can call you whatever you want me to,” he answers and, for once, Stiles can actually tell he’s being sincere. “Even by your real name, if that’s what you want.”

“Oh god, no, _please_  don’t do that!”

“I won’t,” Jackson says and laughs, lifting a hand to touch Stiles’ hair, wrapping a curl around his finger before letting go. “Don’t move.” When he says that, Stiles opens her mouth to ask  _why_  but then Jackson is out of the car, half jogging around to her side.

When she realizes what’s happening, Stiles blushes and lets Jackson open the door for her before stepping out, using the door as a way to keep herself steady. She steps away from the car and smiles at Jackson, watching him shut the door before he takes her hand, squeezing it gently.

And, alright, maybe Jackson isn’t taking her to prom to be a total jerkwad. Maybe, Stiles thinks, he’s doing it because he actually likes her and wants to make Lydia Martin jealous. That thought makes her snort and she nearly trips, not paying attention to where they were going.

Stiles catches herself though and laughs, shaking her head when Jackson looks at her with a worried expression. She takes a deep breath and drops her hand, wrapping her arm around Jackson’s waist, holding onto his jacket tightly.

“You aren’t worried that Lydia’s going to get jealous, are you?” Stiles asks as they walk through the doors, letting go of Jackson long enough to take her jacket off, feeling too hot indoors.

Snorting, Jackson shakes his head and rolls his eyes so hard that Stiles is sure that, if she had superhuman hearing, she could have hard them rolling around in the sockets. “I don’t care if she gets jealous,” he answers and that makes Stiles smile, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Me either.” With a grin, Stiles puts her hand in Jackson’s again and lets him lead her into the gym, biting at the edge of her lip. She rubs them together again to ensure maximum gloss coverage and looks around to see if any of their friends are there yet.

Then she spots Danny standing in the corner with Isaac on his arm and Stiles can’t help but smile brightly at the sight of them. She feels a little proud that she got them together and fist-pumps internally when she sees how happy they look with one another. Stiles Stilinski: one; Universe: zero.

Jackson’s gaze follows hers and he leans in to whisper, “You want to go sit with Danny and Isaac for a while?” When Stiles nods her head in response, Jackson laughs against her ear, the feeling of his hot breath making her shiver.

A few seconds later, they’re making their way across the dance floor and to where their friends are standing. Stiles drapes her jacket over the back of a chair and squeaks when Isaac whistles at her.

“Hush, Lahey,” she teases and smiles as she comes forward, folding Isaac into her arms. She hugs him tightly before pulling back, grinning as she looks between Isaac and Danny. “You two are  _so_  cute together.”

Behind her, Jackson snorts and mumbles an agreement as he comes over to slap his hand against Danny’s. The two of them talk while Stiles asks Isaac a bunch of questions, mostly about his and Danny’s relationship. 

Danny interrupts them, though, and leans his chin onto Stiles’ shoulder, poking her in the ribs gently. “Nice dress,” he whispers and Stiles laughs, moving a hand to pat his cheek before turning to kiss the other one. “You look gorgeous, Stiles.”

“Why is everyone saying that tonight? It’s not like I don’t always look fabulous,” she says and pulls away to look at the pair in front of her, smiling brightly. “You guys, though, you look gorgeous.”

“I do clean up well, huh?” Isaac teases and winks, tugging at the lapel of his jacket before turning to Danny. “And Danny’s always gorgeous.”

Jackson makes a gagging sound and wraps his arms around Stiles from behind, kissing her shoulder gently. “We all look sexy and maybe we’ll end up in one big orgy in the parking lot,” he mumbles, laughing right next to Stiles’ ear.

“You’d like that, Whittemore.” Danny smirks and playfully punches Jackson’s shoulder before grabbing Isaac’s hand. He excuses both of them and they walk onto the dance floor, leaving Stiles and Jackson alone. 

Breathing in deeply, Stiles turns her head to look at Jackson and leans back against him, slipping her hands onto his. “So, I have a very important question and it’s been bugging me since, like, ever. Well, since you asked me to prom,” she mumbles, closing her eyes as Jackson starts swaying with her.

“Shoot,” he whispers, turning his hand around in hers, lacing their fingers together. 

“This is  _such_  an awkward question,” Stiles says and sighs, brushing her thumb along the back of Jackson’s, “but… do you like me? Like, obviously you do or we wouldn’t be at prom together but…” She trails off and gulps, shrugging. “You know what I mean.”

A quiet hum escapes and Jackson nods his head, pressing a kiss to the hinge of Stiles’ jaw. “I do like you, Stiles,” he answers, after a moment, and smiles, moving his lips to her ear. “Why else would I have asked you to senior prom?”

Oh. It’s suddenly  _very_  difficult for Stiles to think with Jackson’s mouth on her ear and she shivers, clenching her eyes shut. She thinks hard about the question and opens her mouth before closing it, repeating the action a few times before groaning in frustration.

“What’s the matter?”

“ _You_! You’re very…” Stiles pauses, grasping for the right word before settling on: “distracting.”

Jackson laughs, a throaty noise that only made Stiles’ body tremble more, and he kissed the shell of her ear lightly. “ _I’m_  distracting? You’re the one in the short, low-cut, strapless dress,” he whispers.

“Oh? And what am I distracting you from, hmm?”

“Prom.” The answer is so simple and Stiles bites her lip, feeling Jackson’s breath ghosting along her neck. God, she is  _not_  prepared for this at all but she finds herself not caring. Stiles has wanted him since she was fourteen and discovered that a shirtless, sweaty Jackson was something that  _definitely_ turned her on.

Stiles breathes in deeply and swallows. “You can have fun, you know, and not be distracted by me,” she says, tilting her head to the side to give Jackson more access to her neck. She’s fully aware that people are looking at them but doesn’t care because it’s Jackson and he’s kissing her neck, something she’d only dreamed of before.

“Kind of hard to do that when you look so sexy.”

“So we’re — we’re using ‘ _sexy_ ’ now, huh?” Stiles squeaks out, squeezing his hands tightly as Jackson runs his lips along her pulse. “Oh sweet fuck, Jackson…”

Laughter fills her ear and Stiles blushes furiously, licking her lips despite the fact that she has lip gloss on. She’ll just keep her lips bare for the rest of the night, especially if Jackson intends on doing  _that_  for the duration of prom.

Jackson’s nose nudges against Stiles’ jaw and he breathes in deeply, moving one of his hands to her hip. “You’re always sexy,” he says and Stiles can’t hold in her laughter even if she tried. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Stiles answers and purses her lips together to keep the laughter in. Once it’s subsided and she feels calmer, she turns around in Jackson’s arms, looping her own around his neck. “Just… you really think I’m always sexy? No bullshit?”

“No bullshit.” Jackson smiles and keeps his eyes on hers, which makes Stiles’ heart leap into her throat. She nods, believing him, and runs her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. 

After a moment of silence between the two of them, Stiles leans up (damn the heels for not making her just a few inches taller) and presses her lips to Jackson’s. Her heart is beating so hard she can hear and feel it booming in her ears but she doesn’t pull back, just kisses him slowly.

And, to her surprise, Jackson kisses back. He wraps his arms around her and pulls Stiles’ body against his own, lifting a hand to cup her cheek as he deepens the kiss a little more.

Someone wolf-whistles a few yards away and Stiles blushes, moving her hands to either side of Jackson’s face, kissing him the best she can. She hasn’t kissed anyone since she was fifteen and Scott wanted to know what it was like, so they tried it out. It’s sufficient to say that it was messy and awkward but did nothing to hinder their friendship, which she’s thankful for.

Still, she’s glad that Jackson is her first  _real_  kiss and that he’s not pulling away, amused by her lack of expertise. That fact makes her press herself against him a little more, her chest pressed flush against Jackson’s. After a few minutes, though, Stiles has to pull back for a breath and she looks up at Jackson, laughing when she sees how shiny his lips are.

“I’m sorry about that,” she says and moves her hands to wipe his mouth off, giggling quietly. “Lip gloss isn’t the best for kissing, huh?”

Jackson shrugs a shoulder and smiles, settling his hands on the small of Stiles’ back. “I don’t mind it. Kind of tastes like mangoes,” he says.

“You’re close!” Stiles says and laughs, leaning up to peck his lips again, biting the lower one before releasing it. “It’s actually strawberry.”

“How in the hell is that  _close_?” 

“They’re both fruits?”

Rolling his eyes, Jackson leans down and kisses Stiles roughly, sucking on her lower lip before kissing her again. She gasps, breath hitching in her throat as she kisses Jackson back, moving a hand to his hair, tangling her fingers in it. They stay together for a couple of minutes and Stiles opens her mouth to let Jackson’s tongue in, moaning shamelessly when she feels it press against her own.

When they ease apart this time, Stiles is panting and blushing harder than before, her entire body feeling warm. She moves her hands between them and plays with one of the buttons on Jackson’s jacket, looking down at her fingers as she does.

“What’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Stiles looks up and shakes her head, smiling. “Nothing’s wrong, I just — that was my first time  _actually_  kissing someone and it was… awesome.”

Jackson laughs and kisses Stiles again. “You wanna know what else is awesome?”

“If you say giving you a blowjob, I’m going to shove  _both_  of my heels up your ass,” she mumbles and laughs when Jackson shakes his head. “Then what else is awesome, huh?”

“Getting out of here and going to the bathroom — or my Porsche — and making out.” The suggestion makes Stiles shudder again and she whimpers, swallowing thickly. “What do you say, Stiles? You wanna go make out somewhere a little more private?”

Stiles wrinkles her nose and thinks about it, nodding her head. “But not in the Porsche and, god, not in the bathroom. Let’s break into one of the classrooms,” she says and beams proudly when Jackson says that her suggestion is a good idea.

They slip out of the gym unnoticed and half-run down the hall before stopping at the first classroom they find. Jackson wiggles the doorknob and shakes his head, motioning for Stiles to check another. She walks down to another, her heels clacking loudly against the floor, and she jiggles the knob, feeling it twist in her hand. Stiles whistles and pushes the door open before moving into the room, humming quietly to herself.

When Jackson joins her, he locks the door and pulls the curtain down over the window, which has Stiles’ nerves shooting through the roof. She watches him come over and squeaks when he lifts her onto the teacher’s desk, running his hands along her thighs slowly.

“You know,” Stiles murmurs, running her finger along the collar of Jackson’s shirt, smiling, “I’m not that kind of girl.”

“And what kind of girl is that?”

“The kind that fucks on the first date.” 

Raising his eyebrows, Jackson stares at Stiles and shakes his head, resting his hands high on her thighs, underneath her dress. “You think I want to fuck you on the first date?”

“You fucked Lydia on the first date,” Stiles murmurs, feeling a pang of jealousy shoot through her when she remembers him boasting about it and her bragging. “She couldn’t shut up about it for  _weeks_.”

“Lydia is different.” As he speaks, Jackson rubs small circles on Stiles’ skin with his thumbs, sighing. “I like you, Stiles, and I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to. Lydia… she wanted it and I wasn’t going to say no to her.”

Talking about Lydia makes Stiles’ stomach twist and she swallows hard, shaking her head quickly as she sighs. “Could we not talk about Lydia right now? It’s kind of killing my buzz and I want to kiss you without picturing where that mouth has been,” she mumbles.

“Yeah,” Jackson whispers and lifts a hand, cupping Stiles’ chin before tilting her face up, smiling as he leans in to kiss her. He drops his hand to the side of her neck and brushes his thumb along her pulse, kissing her slowly.

This is what Stiles wants to do and she moans against Jackson’s lips, kissing him back just as slowly as she wraps her legs around the backs of his. She works her heels off and kicks them away, laughing into the kiss when she hears them clatter against one of the desks.

And even though she says she’s not that kind of girl, Stiles moves the hand on her thigh even higher and blushes. She pulls away from the kiss and licks at Jackson’s lower lip, biting at her own as she looks up at him through his lashes.

“I want you, Jackson, but I don’t want to go all the way. Not right now and definitely not here,” she says and laughs, spreading her legs slowly. “I wouldn’t object to you touching me, though.”

Jackson’s eyes go wide when he hears that and he says, “Are you sure?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Stiles hums and moves Jackson’s hand from her thigh to the front of her panties which are purple — just like her dress — and lacy. “If you want to, I mean — if not, that’s cool. We can always wait.”

“No, I want to.” The words come out quickly and Stiles bites her lip, laughing a little around it as Jackson looks at her, colour seeping into his cheeks. “I want to,” he repeats and leans in to kiss Stiles, moving his fingers against her.

The feeling of fabric moving against her skin makes Stiles moan and the noise tapers off into something uncomfortable. She pulls back from the kiss and pushes Jackson away before shoving her hands underneath her skirt. Hooking her fingers underneath the waistband of her boy shorts, Stiles tugs them down her legs and kicks them off onto the floor.

Smiling, Stiles leans back on her hands and spreads her legs a little more in silent invitation to Jackson. “That’s better,” she says and shivers, feeling strangely liberated sitting on their teacher’s desk with no panties on.

It takes Jackson a moment to come forward but once he does, he settles between Stiles’ legs, slipping his hand up her leg again. This time, he presses a fingertip against her and leans in to kiss her neck, slipping the digit inside of her.

“Oh.” Stiles gasps and bites down on her lip, tilting her head back as Jackson slides his finger into her. It feels different than her own, of course, because Jackson’s are longer and thicker but it also feels _amazing_. “Oh, god,  _Jackson_.”

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Jackson asks, his lips moving along Stiles’ skin and his worrying is so cute she wants to smack him. She doesn’t, though, just shakes her head and tells him to give her another, feeling like one of those women in the porn she and Scott watched together in sophomore year.

Jackson breathes in deeply and spreads Stiles’ legs with his free hand, slipping two fingers into her, groaning at how tight and wet she is. They slide in all the way and he starts thrusting them in and out slowly, kissing across Stiles’ chest.

When Jackson starts fingering her a little faster, Stiles gasps and arches her back, moving one of her hands to the back of his head. She tangles her fingers in his hair and sits up, moving her hips against his hand, biting back a moan. 

Stiles is wet — wetter than she’s ever been — and she moves her hand down to wrap around Jackson’s wrist, keeping it still. A nervous laugh escapes as she starts to press down against his fingers, something inside of her breaking each time she rolls her hips down.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” she gasps, moving her hand away from Jackson’s wrist to grab his other hand, slipping it under her skirt. Stiles presses it where she wants it — on her clit — and starts rocking against his fingers a little harder. 

This definitely isn’t what Jackson had in mind for the night but he isn’t complaining, especially since Stiles is practically riding his hand. She’s whimpering and biting her lower lip, throwing her head back in a way that has her hair spilling down her back. The way she looks in that moment makes Jackson’s cock harden in his pants and he breathes, leaning in to kiss across Stiles’ shoulders.

As he kisses her skin, Jackson twists his fingers and pushes them into her harder, using the thumb of his other hand to rub her clit. She moans his name and grabs his hair harder when he does that, so he continues to rub right there, alternating between clockwise and counterclockwise.

“Shit, oh — oh, Jackson.” Stiles whimpers and pants, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, her body trembling. She keeps riding his fingers, feeling herself being pulled to the edge, and all it takes is one hard bite on her shoulder, a sharp thrust of Jackson’s fingers, and hard press against her clit to make her come. 

Stiles turns into a writhing, moaning, boneless mess as she rides out her orgasm, her body shaking with the aftershocks. She breathes hard and laughs, burying her face against the crook of Jackson’s neck, whimpering when he pulls his fingers out of her.

“Holy fuck,” Jackson mumbles and the both laugh at the same time, Stiles clinging to him as her whole body shakes. “Was that good?”

A noise bubbles up from Stiles’ throat and she nods, pulling away before leaning in to kiss Jackson slowly. “It was fucking perfect,” she answers and blushes, running her fingers along the nape of his neck.

“Good.” Smiling, Jackson kisses Stiles again and pulls back, moving his hand to his mouth to clean his fingers off. Which is one of the sexiest things Stiles has ever seen and she moans, pressing her thighs together. “What?”

“Don’t do shit like that,” she mumbles and pokes his thigh with her toe, smiling brightly before sliding off the desk. Her legs are a little wobbly and she holds onto Jackson for support, laughing at herself. “Guess I should give myself more of a recovery time.”

Jackson shakes his head and leans down to grab her underwear, handing them to Stiles with a grin. “You might want these,” he says.

Colour spreads across Stiles’ face and she nods, taking the boy shorts out of Jackson’s hand before lifting her dress. She slips them back on and makes sure that everything is readjusted before looking at him expectantly.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Do I look like I just got fingered on a teacher’s desk and had the best orgasm of my life?” Stiles asks, pulling her hair back onto her shoulders, letting the curls spill down to the top of her dress.

Looking at Stiles up and down, Jackson shakes his head and smiles. “No, you don’t,” he answers and moves a hand to cup his cock through his slacks, adjusting himself quickly. “Come on. I’m sure everyone is wondering where we went.”

“Do you want me to…”

“What?” Jackson asks, his eyebrows pulling together as he watches Stiles motion toward his lap, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m alright. We can always do that later, right?”

Stiles smiles brightly and nods, grabbing her shoes before slipping them on, nearly falling when she slips into the last one. She straightens up, makes sure everything is good for the last time, and puts her hand in Jackson’s.

The two of them walk back into the hall and Jackson kisses her cheek before saying he needs to go to the bathroom. Stiles nods, watching as Jackson walks away, and huffs as she walks back to the gym, still a little unsteady on her feet.

“Where’d you go — and where’s Jackson?” Danny asks as Stiles joins him, Isaac, Scott, and Allison at their table. 

“We went somewhere quiet to talk,” Stiles answers as she sits down next to Allison, chewing on her lower lip. “And Jackson had to piss.”

Everyone in the group shoots her a skeptical look and Stiles just blushes, looking at Scott and Allison, who are disgustingly adorable together all the time. She compliments them on their outfits and makes small talk before Jackson comes back, dragging his chair closer to hers before taking her hand.

At the end of the night, everyone goes back to Jackson’s for an after-prom party and Stiles has a few drinks, which prompts her to tell Allison what happened in the classroom. The two of them giggle about it all night and Stiles thinks that maybe she and Jackson have a shot at having something good.


End file.
